But You Promised
by Rainbow Fruit Loop
Summary: "He hasn't given up on L, even though L hasn't been to see him in two years. He hasn't given up on L, even though he's been alone for too long now. L wouldn't forget. He promised." In which both promises and hearts are broken. One-sided Near/L. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters; Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata are lucky enough to own it. (:

Author's note: I don't even know where this came from. And, to _'tii-chan17' _- please don't murder me! (: Happy ending next time, I absolutely promise.  
Alright. This is slightly AU, because Near doesn't know about L's death. I'm not sure why Roger hasn't told him, but just go with the flow, yeah? (:  
Anyways, please, please review this if you read, because I love reviews as much as... well, I love them a lot~!

~Rainbow Fruit Loop.

* * *

~You Promised ~

_Near stood at the end of Wammy's House's longest corridor. He was biting his thumb slightly as he watched his favourite person in the entire world – L, the world's greatest detective – walk towards him._

_L was carrying a small black duffel bag – nothing more, nothing less. It was hard to believe that all of his valuable possessions could fit into that bag, but, then again, his valuable possessions were few and far between._

_If an outsider had witnessed what Near had witnessed, then they would presume that L wasn't going away for very long. _

_But Near knew L too well. Near knew that L wasn't going to be coming back. Not for a while, anyway._

_When L finally drew near the white haired boy, Near spoke up in his monotonous voice._

"_You're leaving again." _

_It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Because Near already knew the answer._

"_Yes."_

_There was no point in lying. L knew that Near was too smart for his own good._

_The small, white haired boy with the strange white clothes nodded to himself, his face as emotionless as ever._

_But on the inside, his heart was throbbing with a deep, dull ache._

"_Are you going to be coming back?" _

_Near tried to keep the hint of desperation out of his voice, but it was too hard to pretend that it didn't hurt._

_There was a pause before the older, scruffy-haired genius (who was now leaning back against the wall beside Near) answered. "…If I can."_

"_That's not a proper answer." Near stated. "What are the chances of you coming back?"_

_L ran a hand through his jet black hair, and twirled his big toes around one another in a rather distracting manner._

"_If we get an actual, genuine confession from Kira, then there is a sixty nine percent chance of my coming back. There's only a twenty five percent chance that I'll come back if the investigation continues for more than two months, and it decreases again to fifteen percent if we have a suspect for the Kira case who doesn't confess to the crimes." L stated, matter-of-factly. "And, obviously, a zero percent chance of my coming back to Wammy's if I am killed by Kira. Though, I don't believe that to be likely."_

_Near nodded again, and slowly twirled a finger in his soft white hair._

_He wanted to ask L what his chances of being killed were, but he didn't want to sounds desperate. _

"_I don't like it when you leave." he said instead, his voice quiet._

_L frowned to himself, and absentmindedly brought his thumbnail to his lips._

"_I don't like leaving either." L shrugged, and watched as Near's dark, impassive eyes narrowed slightly._

"_If you are telling the truth, then why do you leave?"_

_L was silent for a few minutes; pondering his answer._

"_Because I have to."_

_And that was the truth._

"_If I don't leave, then who will?"_

_The corner of Near's lips turned downwards into a small frown, and he looked down at the ground._

_He knew that L was making sense; he understood. He just didn't want to._

_The world needed L to save it from the darkness and immorality caused by the psychopathic mass murderer who was not afraid to kill anyone who got in his way. The world needed L because he was the only one who had a chance of winning; he was the world's only area of glowing light left. The world needed L to light everything up for them; to give them the bravery to live life to its fullest again._

_It was just… Near needed L to live too._

_L's heart ached as he noticed just what his leaving did to his number one successor._

_He didn't like seeing Near hurt; it wasn't good for such a young child to be so torn up on the inside. A child at the young age of thirteen shouldn't be worrying about the state of the world, or if the person he loved more than anything would be killed._

_L knew that Near's feelings for him were stronger than they should be, and, although he did have to admit that the small, white haired child held a special place in his heart, he didn't feel love the same way Near did. _

_L knew that it hurt Near to be in love with someone so much older than him; someone with no chance of ever loving him back, but what could he do about it? Love was one of the many things that L didn't understand; he didn't know how to start it, or how to stop it._

_L knew many things, but there was also a great deal that he didn't understand._

_When L looked more closely at Near – Near, who was usually so indifferent, so cold, so detached from the world around him – he could see emotions. _Human _emotions. They were well-hidden; skilfully suppressed, but they were there. Hurt, confusion, abandonment, fear, love._

_Near was feeling too many emotions for one person to feel at once, and L couldn't do anything to make it better._

_L didn't want to leave Near alone in the wide, wide world; a boy so fragile, and so vulnerable, but leaving wasn't something he had control over._

_So, the tall, thin genius took a few hesitant steps forward, and crouched down in front of Near._

"_Near, even if I don't come back, I promise I won't forget you. I don't want to forget you. I _can't _forget you."_

_Near shook his head in disagreement, his eyes still glued to the floor._

"_I don't believe you. It may be easy to remember, but it's easier to forget."_

"_Near…" L shook his head. _

_Couldn't Near see that L wasn't that type of person? Didn't he _know_?_ _Couldn't he _tell_? Because L wasn't the type of person who made promises and then disregarded them completely._

"_Look, I promise that every year, on your birthday, I'll meet you at the airport."_

_Near looked up from the ground, his eyes curious._

"_What for?"_

_Softly, L pressed his lips to Near's pale forehead, and smiled at the pyjama-clad boy. "Every year, at the airport, I'll meet you there. I'll spend the whole day with you, I promise. It's to prove to you that I don't want to forget about you."_

_Near nodded, and his face broke out into a small smile._

_That was the first time that Nate River ever smiled for somebody._

It was also his last.

Because that was five years ago.

And today is the twenty fourth of August, two thousand and twelve. It's Near's birthday. Near's _eighteenth_ birthday.

It's twenty minutes until midnight; and the last flight of the day from Japan to England is due in three minutes.

Near's been waiting quietly at the airport for almost sixteen hours – he's been at the airport since eight o'clock in the morning - and he's barely moved.

He's watched six flights from Japan arrive, and was almost breathless with excitement each time until he realised that L wasn't on _that_ particular flight, and his heart had sunk.

Now he's waiting for the last flight of the twenty fourth of August.

Because he hasn't given up on L, even though L hasn't been to see him in two years. He hasn't given up on L, even though he's been alone on his birthday for too long now.

Surely, L was just busy with the Kira case, right?

Because L wouldn't forget. He promised.

As the gates from the final flight from Japan to England open, and people start flooding out - suitcases and all - Near sits up straight. His heart is beating in elation, and he's full of hope.

L _has _to be on this flight.

Near peers over the taller people in front of him, hoping to catch a glimpse of a scruffy-haired, pale-skinned, lanky man with dark shadows under his eyes.

He's trembling lightly with a well-concealed excitement; he really can't wait to see L.

L's been gone for too long, and all Near wants to do is to bury his face into the genius's sweet-smelling white shirt, and cling to the lithe frame underneath.

When he was a child – Near doesn't consider himself to be a child anymore – and L still visited Wammy's, Near used to dream about the day when he was old enough to confess his feelings to the world's most decorated detective. He hopes that – now that he's a bit older, and more mature – L will see him as a young adult instead of as a child.

When Near was a child, he used to have secret fantasies about L. He always wondered how soft L's lips were – they certainly _looked _soft – and he always wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in L's warm embrace, in an emotional clutter of love, friendship, hope and calm.

But it never happened, and Near doesn't know that it never will.

Near bites his lip lightly in anticipation, and waits patiently.

But, soon the numbers of people are lessening, and L still hasn't appeared through the gates.

Maybe there's been a mistake.

But, no. Near doesn't make mistakes. And neither does L.

The familiar dull ache is back in Near's heart, and all he can think is, "You're not coming. You've forgotten about me. You're not coming. But you promised."

The clock chimes midnight; the start of the twenty fifth of August.

It's too late now.

L's not coming.

Again.

Near gets up from his seat, and trudges down the hallway; away from where a young couple are embracing happily.

Near always thought that airports were strange places. Some people just can't stop laughing; they're grinning from ear to ear; a smile so bright that it lights up the room – they've just been reunited with the person they love.

Some people are crying their eyes out; clinging to the person in front of them – they're letting someone go.

And then there are the people like Near. Hopeful that their loved ones will come back to them; only to be disappointed when they don't.

Near sighs softly in unhappiness, and passes the blonde haired boy who is leaning against the wall.

"He didn't come, huh?" Mello asks softly, following after Near.

But he already knows the answer. Because, of course L didn't come. It's impossible.

It hurt Mello to watch Near at the airport. And, for some reason, Roger had decided that Near wouldn't be safe at the airport by himself, and had asked Mello to accompany him. And the only reason why Mello has refused profusely (and pointlessly) was because he didn't like seeing Near hurt. He didn't like seeing the white haired boy's face light up with excitement (Mello could read Near better than most people) only to fall again with a crushing disappointment.

He knew the truth, and it hurt him that he wasn't strong enough to tell Near.

"No." Near replies, his face emotionless. He can't show Mello that he's about to cry.

He can't let _anyone_ see his emotions; L was the only person he trusted to see his emotions, and L's not here.

Mello just wouldn't understand.

Near doesn't look at Mello as the two make their way outside.

As soon as they step outside, the cold, midnight air hits Near hard, and soon he's shivering all over. He never realised just how cold the night was. He guesses that this is what darkness feels like.

Cold. Miserable. Lonely.

And he'd better get used to it.

Near realises that the cold, fresh air has dried the tears he didn't even know he was crying.

But it's okay, because it's dark, and Mello can't see his weakness.

"I'm sorry." Mello says, uncharacteristically sympathetic. "I honestly am."

Because of course he saw the tears. It may be dark, but Mello's not stupid.

"I know."

But there's a hidden apology inside Mello's words. An apology that Near doesn't pick up on; an apology he _can't _pick up on.

And the apology is, "I'm sorry that you get your heart broken once a year, every year. I'm sorry that you're hurting because none of us are brave enough to tell you the truth. I'm sorry that you think that L has broken his promise, when, in fact, it's not his fault. And I'm sorry that you can't smile anymore."

Because all of the orphans at Wammy's know the truth. They know that L is dead; that L was killed; that L's never going to be coming back.

But none of them are brave enough to tell Near, because most of them know that Near loves L more than he should. They know that telling the truth would crush him; even though he wouldn't show it.

They all know that Near only ever smiled for L.

They all know that the only time that Near ever shows any sort of emotion is on August the twenty fourth. And that emotion is hope.

And by telling Near the tragic, tragic truth; they crush his last remaining emotion.

And they all know that L wouldn't want that.


End file.
